Once upon a time there was an old, grizzled, bald, bearded gold prospector. He decided to take a trip to visit his sister in the desert near Palm Springs. He loaded up his trusty stead, a red ford ranger, hooked up his tent trailer and headed off on a 1200 mile trip full of great expectations. To make sure that he could find his way through the myriad of roads and hiways, he had his faithfull friend, Elmer, a computer with a gps mapping program, fully prepared with the exact routes that they would follow. All went well the first day as Elmer would loudly announce each turn of the route before each turn was to be made.
On the afternoon of the first day after several fuel stops and many miles placed on the odometer of his truck,the adventureous pair, the prospector and Elmer, found themselves about 20 miles into arizona at a small RV park. After quickly setting up the evenings accomadations, Elmer was put to bed and the prospector was found relaxing in his chair with a cool beverage in one hand and a large cigar in the other contemplating on how great life was and watching the sun go down in the western sky.
Day 2
With the sun appeaing over the eastern horizon, camp was quickly broken, Elmer was awaken and the pair were soon traveling merrily westward at a 70 mph pace and all was well. Elmer was happily announcing each turn and counting down the mileage to the late afternoon arrival at their destination. After crossing over the border into california, a quick fuel stop at Needles, gas at $4.57 a gallon, another short stop at the inspection station, the pair were now happily headed west once more, now at slovenly 55 mph pace thanks to the stupid california law making it illegal for trucks or any towed vehicle to exceed 55.
Eventually Elmer spoke up and announced it was time to exit the interstate and proceed along a smaller hiway towards Amboy and 29 Palms. This really didn't effect the travel speed as the speed limit there was 55 also. Elmer was sitting in the right seat as navigator and underneath him, completely ignored was an old, well used road atlas. It had not been consulted because we all know that new, computer technology is the only way to go. The miles quickly passed by and the scenery became more desolate. All along the sides of the road were signs on past civilization. Old abandoned shacks with an occasional occupied residence. The pair soon found their way into 29 Palms as Elmer continued verbalizing each turn. Just before the road entered the Marine base, Elmer called out a left turn. As the prospector approached the spot to turn, all that appeared was a 2 track road out into the sandy desert. That turn the prospector ignored as it couldn't be correct. Elmer gently chided the old man with an "off route, off route. Recalculateing" and soon announced the next left turn. This one appeared to be a much better road. It was not paved, but graded and sandy so after turning, the pair was once again headed westward. They were almost at their destination. Elmer showed 22 miles to go. The travel speed decreased to about 20 mph due to the rough, sandy road and the washboards in it. As time went by with Elmer cheerfully calling out each turn, the houses along the road got fewer and fewer. No problem, we were almost there. The road continued getting progressively worse with ups and downs going through sandy washes cut into the desert floor. The old man began to get worried as there were fewer and fewer signs on human occupation other than the increaseingly crappier roads. As he drove down a small hill he noticed that the other side of the wash looked very sandy. Really loose stuff. Not the normal hardpacked, washboardy stuff. Quickly stepping on the accelerator he entered the bottom of the wash and started up the other side only to come to a quick stop mired in a foot of loose sand. This wasn't good. He could go neither forward or backward. He could only spin the wheels in the loose sand. After several minutes of bad words, he exited the truck to acess the situation. He was going nowhere with the trailer attached so the first step was to disconnect it. After re-entering the truck he found that he could pull forward about 2 inches, backup, reverse and soon he had about 12" of movement he could make with the truck. Backing all the way back and bumping the trailer hitch, he decided to hit the forward motion as hard as possible.
Giving the engine lots of throttle the clutch engaged and the truck quickly traveled the 12" and slowed almost to a complete stop. Almost to a stop. With the foot jammed into the throttle and the engine racing, the truck countinued slowly inching forward with sand flying in all directions, finally inching forward through the sand and onto the hardpacked road surface. Great! At least he's not walking out of here!. Now, what to do about the trailer. Up on top of the hill about 1/4 mile away was a small cabin with a vehicle parked. Maybe they can help. Driving there he asked "does anyone near by have a 4 wheel drive"? The answer was basically no. "I do have a shovel though". After borrowing it and a tow strap, it was back to the trailer. By driving off the road and on the desert it was possible to get behind the trailer and stay on hardpack. Luckily the tow strap was long enough that it would reach the trailer with the truck on hard ground. By hooking the tow strap on one side of the trailer bumper, it could be pulled backwards a few feet. Then the strap was moved to the other side of the bumper and the process repeated. Finally with the strap hooked in the middle of the bumper, the trailer was soon back on hard ground and re-connected to the truck.
After returning the equipment he had borrowed and asking directions to the nearest pavement, he was on his way with Elmer calling out numerous turn with the thankful prospector joyously ignoring them as he followed the directions given by the gracious resident of the desert. After 5 miles of continuly improving sand roads a stop sign appeared and joy of joys, blacktop pavement!
Once again headed in the right direction and with Elmer calling out turns, all of which were ignored except for ones staying on pavement, the pair wearily arrived at their destination. It was late evening and did the trailer get setup? No! Not until several stiff drinks were enjoyed.
The moral of the story? Sometimes the computer systems can't tell the difference from a paved road or a cow path. Use your good judgement. One thing the prospector did correctly though. He had plenty of food, water, and shelter with him so there was no immediate danger. Just a delay in plans.